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XPOSED Queer Film Festival: “We want queer people to see themselves on screen”

Interview with David Bakum, one of the programmers from the XPOSED Queer Film Festival Berlin


30/05/2025

Xposed Queer Film Festival Berlin

Could you start by telling our readers about yourself and your background? 

I’m David. I grew up in Germany, and my family is from Ukraine. I moved to Scotland for my film and theatre studies degree at university, and now I have come back to Germany this year for a job, but also to see how Germany has changed, if at all. My job is in political education with a small organisation, but while doing my studies, I started working at film festivals and finding out what felt right for me. I’m slowly understanding that I like to curate, so I’m still new to that, but I’m coming into a routine and trying to expand what it means to be a curator and learning how to do it.

You are one of the programmers at the XPOSED Queer Film Festival Berlin—can you tell us more about the festival and what the vision is? 

The festival started in 2006; this will be the 19th edition. It started as a passion project by a couple of people here in Berlin—which it still is to date. I would consider us to be a collective of queer people who either live in Berlin, are tied to Berlin somehow, or are simply tied to the festival, who come together every year to organise it. Many of us are migrants; some of us grew up in Germany, but we face different layers of discrimination here. It’s a political festival because we are people who are affected by politics in this country. As a festival, we try to show different perspectives of what it means to be queer, but also what queerness could be—not only tied to sexuality or gender but also to what convention society has and how queerness goes against that and tries to dismantle it. We try to show global perspectives of queerness, so we try to involve many different views of what it means to be queer in this world. Whether that is successful, that’s always debatable. 

How would you define queerness or queer cinema? 

At the moment, we have five curators, and we all work together to curate the programme. All of us have different ways of defining queerness for ourselves, so it’s enriching when we watch films and discuss together if they fit the festival or not. We often discuss a film and say, “This is so XPOSED”. I guess at this point, we have a sort of style, something you can expect, and the overlap is about imagining film outside of what’s on the mainstream. There are many ways of what queerness could be—one is that we want to see stories of queerness told by queer people. Very few of our films, if any, are made by non-queer filmmakers—our focus is not only on the director but if it’s a queer production. Sometimes you can sense how people have worked—you can tell if it was queer inclusive, rather than just pink-washing. Often, we are in touch with filmmakers whose work we know already and keep track of, so that’s how we get a feeling for whether they actually practice what they put into the film. At the same time, queerness doesn’t have to be in the topics of the films; it can be about the form. Very rarely do we take something that follows an Aristotelian arch. It’s more about playing with form, with convention, and then just destroying that. There are very original films that provoke us to see something for the very first time in a certain way. That’s what we are usually looking for. 

XPOSED screens both features and short films, as well as newer and older films. On your website, it also mentions that you hope that your curatorial choices counteract oppressive structures. Can you say more about the selection process? How do you decide what is a good fit for the festival? 

There are two ways in which films get to us: we have open submissions that people can submit for free, and we also do our own research, so the team is always on the lookout not only for what’s going on at festivals, but also in smaller queer productions—including locally, and we like to focus on migrant queer cinema in Berlin. Sometimes, we only need one person watching a film, and they really see why it’s important to give it the space. Very often, it happens that we all agree. It can be that there is a topic that is important at the moment to give certain people a voice, and in those cases it needs to be included so that people come to the festival and see a glimpse of what is one way of being queer in that country or region, for example. Even if it’s a 5-minute short, it can already trigger something and move people to imagine what queerness is in that country, to want to know more, and to want to research, and think of ways in which they can show solidarity or support. Sometimes, there are interesting discussions of why someone thinks a certain film is “XPOSED”, and someone else doesn’t agree, but very rarely do we have a strong disagreement. This is because we are all very open to understanding our different positionalities and experiences of how we live in Berlin or elsewhere. We also try to learn from each other and what each curator found in their practice.

The submissions come from many different countries. We try to spread the word as much as possible, but there are many regions from which we do not get submissions from. For those, we wonder if it’s because of the political situation, access to filmmaking, access to finding out about festivals, or even filmmakers not being interested in showing films in Germany. 

Since your 20th anniversary is happening soon, when reflecting on the festival, what is the importance of having a film festival dedicated to queerness in a city like Berlin? 

There are many other amazing film festivals and venues. I think what XPOSED does well is create a community around the festival, people who look forward to it every year. We also tried to make it more accessible, even though inflation and funding have been difficult. That also makes it harder to claim that we are accessible because it’s this vicious cycle of wanting to be for the queer community but also being queer ourselves and not having the best access to things. We want queer people to see themselves on screen and imagine what their future could be like, but also to irritate people who might disagree if they happen to be at our festival. 

Some of the films would struggle to find a spot at a festival, either because there are requirements that are not accessible to short films, or some wouldn’t get picked for their stories, for their aesthetics, or their production budgets. For many people, it’s a big opportunity to be able to premiere in Berlin. 

We don’t have a lot of funding to fly people in, but we try to take care of each other by hosting people, offering meals, or even spontaneously hosting a film screening at 10 pm on a Sunday because many people want to watch it. Those are tiny things we can do, but it’s important to connect people who share a struggle and feel they are not alone. 

XPOSED receives public funding. At the end of last year, the Berlin Senate announced a 12% cut to the city’s cultural budget. The campaign Berlin Ist Kultur was created in response, to protest it. What are your thoughts on that? 

I am still trying to understand how it affects us, and we are looking for funding opportunities all the time. Fewer things are accessible to us for application. I also feel that different things are stopping from existing in the social and cultural sector; it’s scary. How can we even still run a festival for queer people, if they will not have the money to attend; it’s definitely an existential threat to us and many venues and festivals. We feel affected and are in solidarity with everyone impacted. It’s sad that suddenly it feels like we are in a competition for who deserves the funding over each other. We are taking a moment to reflect on where we can look for funding without it being taken away from other affected communities.

Part of what you’ve been highlighting is that a film festival is not only a cultural and artistic event, but also a political one. You published a statement denouncing the actions of the German government. What can you tell us about that, and especially about your commitment to not “censor yourselves from your responsibility as a festival”? 

It’s an ongoing discussion within the team. We never had to have a moment to get each other on the same page—we always knew we shared and relied on each other’s values. Since October 2023, there has been this urge in Germany to position yourself politically—but before then, it was already important to be political; since then, we felt we should position ourselves because saying nothing is already a statement, and we owe it to the people who come to the festival. So we sat down as a team and thought that a statement is one thing we can do. Strike Germany was also happening at the time, as were other boycott initiatives. We also had selected filmmakers to showcase at our festival, and then they refused because they didn’t want to show in Germany—which we understand, and tried to highlight that in the programme. It’s difficult to realise that we are tied to this country and the money from it, but we also tried to highlight the oppressed voices. We were worried about getting our funding cut and then possible extinction—then there’s no stage where this can happen. 

I hope the statement we wrote was in support and solidarity. At our open speech last year, we also discussed the subject and wore symbols at the festival to show people what we believe in and make people more comfortable. We also organised a community event with Palestinian filmmakers and poetry, based on an existing project. The day before, just outside the cinema Moviemento, there was a protest where police applied a lot of violence. We felt we couldn’t build a safe space in this environment, and this country doesn’t make us feel safe. We can at least let people tell their stories, but even that is apparently seen as violent and illegal. 

XPOSED started yesterday and runs until the 1st of June. What are your plans and highlights for this year’s festival? What should people know? 

The opening will be a big screening, with some filmmakers present, and it’s always nice to see the whole team on stage after the whole exhaustion. We are really proud of the short films program we curate; a lot of work goes into that. Some people’s favourite is a short film program about blooming and flowers. It is beautiful and carries great importance in both obvious and hidden meanings through flowers. 

We have one feature that celebrates its 10th anniversary, Tchindas, about a trans woman and activist from Cape Verde who died last year. There is a film called “If I Die, It Will Be of Joy” about older queers from France—it’s very beautiful, and the director will be there. Many directors decided to attend with their own money or got some funding from embassies and our team’s support. It’s amazing to be able to speak with them and immerse in other realities and be vulnerable with each other. Another feature is a film about trans and indigenous people and identity from the Philippines with four team members coming—I’m really excited about that. But people should just come to everything!

Is there anything else you would like to mention?

In a venue called aquarium, by Südblock, we are offering workshops: one is a Wikipedia marathon, where you can learn how to write articles about queer filmmakers to give them more recognition—might not be the best platform to get your knowledge from, but since many people use it, we might as well queer it. Additionally, there will be an initiative where people can pitch their short film ideas. The winners get some financial aid and mentorship to develop the films. Very often we end up also selecting the short films that come out of it—it’s great, local, queer work. Last year’s winner will be shown at this edition. There are other events, such as a conversation about working with new media forms and having an interdisciplinary approach to film, audio, and visual means. On Sunday, we’ll announce the Lolly Awards winners. 

2 June 1967: Berlin police kill Benno Ohnesorg

This week in working class history


29/05/2025

On 2nd June, 1967 the Shah of Iran visited West Berlin. Some recent revisionist history implies that pre-revolution Iran was a liberal paradise, but the Shah was a brutal dictator. On his state visit he was accompanied by so-called Jubelpersonen (“Persian celebrators”) – members of his secret police. Jubelpersonen attacked student protesters in Schöneberg in the afternoon.

That evening, the Shah visited the Deutsche Oper. Once again, he was met with protests. This time, it was the German police who attacked the demonstrators. One policeman, Karl-Heinz Kurras, fired a shot which hit 26-year old student Benno Ohnesorge in the back of the head. Ohnesorg, who had been attending his first political demonstration and whose wife was pregnant, died in hospital. Kurras was later acquitted of his murder.

The police killing of Ohnesorge is seen as the catalysor of the German 1968 movement. Sebastian Haffner argued in konkret that “with the student pogrom of 2 June 1967 fascism in West Berlin had thrown off its mask.” SDS leader Rudi Dutschke called for the expropriation of the Springer press, accusing them of incitement to murder. Dutschke in turn was accused by professor Jürgen Habermas of “leftist fascism”,

As the US slaughter continued in Vietnam, the SDS continued to mobilise both anti-war demonstrations and a historic Vietnam Conference in the TU in February 1968. In April 1968, Dutschke was shot by a right winger. The 1968 movement ultimately fragmented, with different members turning to terrorism, the Green Party and even fascism. But for a while, when state terror was clear, even Germany saw united radical protests.

Just Stop Oil: the shock-factor campaign that actually achieved its goal

You’ve probably heard of them, even if you think you haven’t


28/05/2025

Two Just Stop Oil protestors kneel in front of the Van Gogh sunflowers painting that they have just covered in soup. One holds the empty can of soup in their hand.

Spattering tomato soup across Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, invading Rugby pitches in Twickenham, exploding confetti on an unsuspecting Sigourney Weaver mid-soliloquy: Just Stop Oil’s (JSO) infamy is impressive considering its mere three-year tenure. Branded petty, absurd, and obnoxious by a bevy of media outlets, and trolled relentlessly online, they shot into public consciousness with the subtlety of a flying brick and a burning planet as their backdrop. On April 26th, 2025, the group held its last demonstration in the centre of London––a peaceful and comparatively mundane march from parliament to the headquarters of Shell. Having ostensibly achieved its original aim––the United Kingdom’s government stopping the issue of new oil or gas exploration licences––their neon hi-vis jackets have been hung up. Direct action has officially been called to a heel. But the group is not surrendering in the fight for climate justice. 

During JSO’s three years in action, its supporters were reported to have been arrested 3,300 times, imprisoned 180 times, and currently 11 of its members remain incarcerated. Sentences range from conspiring to create a public nuisance, to criminal damage, to disruption of traffic. Just this week, nine of its activists avoided jail, with the judge ruling that no harm was caused. Despite her ruling, she reprimanded the protestors––arrested at Heathrow Terminal 5––for treating the courtroom as an “extension of the protest.” Her reprimand was due to what she considered to be a lack of remorse and accountability. For JSO members, however, it seems that they differ from the judge as to where accountability ought to be taken. 

They worked in extremes. But the crux of their argument was that the situation was extreme. Their high-profile tactics were disruptive, but nonviolent. The effects of climate change are more than a nuisance: they are fatal. 

 “In spite of the guilty verdict, of being held in prison and of my impending sentencing, I feel completely at peace. I acted in line with my conscience and moral convictions. I told the truth at trial, both about the climate crisis and about my actions and intentions. I know I acted nonviolently: without violence and actively against violence. I acted to prevent the real Public Nuisance that is climate breakdown,” wrote Ella, a 22-year-old member currently serving time in a women’s prison in Manchester after being found guilty of conspiring to create a public nuisance. 

Protesting laws in the UK have become more stringent in the years since the conception of Just Stop Oil; the Public Order Act 2023 was specifically introduced to target climate activists, providing law enforcement agencies with greater powers to combat so-called “disruptive” protests. The new legislations countering such activity have not been met with universal acclaim. UN Special Rapporteur Michel Forst expressed his concerns to the BBC following the imprisonment of Dr Patrick Hart, who caused thousands of pounds of damage to fuel pumps during a JSO demonstration, saying, “In France you would receive a small fine, never prison. But in the UK peaceful protesters receive 12 months in prison.” The Joint Committee on Human Rights also called for the measures within the act to be watered down, citing the importance for residents of the UK to exercise their democratic rights. 

The blockage of roads, interference of public events, damage to art and culture, and impact on emergency services spawned by JSO-led protests dampened its popularity somewhat in the public eye: inevitably, vandalism and inconvenience can lead to alienation. But their methods are the same that have been employed by activists throughout history: it could be argued that high-profile, disruptive, obnoxious tactics are those that have spurred the most change. 

The Suffragettes engaged in relentless civil obedience under the motto “Deeds, not words.” Much like JSO, they were viewed as nuisances, the subjects of much mockery and accusations of overblown hysteria. Criticisms of JSO’s actions as ostentatious, unruly, or inconvenient prove that their formula worked as planned: isn’t every protest intended to be attention-grabbing, to disrupt, and dismantle? The response of the government to introduce stringent laws against such protestors seems to send a message that compliance and submission must be practiced, even when infringements on human rights occur around us. Peaceful marches may not immediately seem to challenge or disrupt, but they are still fundamentally radical, still conceived with the intent to draw eyes, change minds, and crucially, show solidarity. 

“This is how civil resistance works: applying nonviolent pressure until we force change to happen,” the Just Stop Oil website reads. “It’s how the Freedom Riders forced an end to segregated buses in 1961. It’s how disabled people won accessible transport in the nineties and how Just Stop Oil won no new oil and gas licenses in 2024. We know how to win, but it’s going to take all of us.”

The fierce crackdown on activism was undoubtedly a factor in the group drawing to a close. The official line remains that the battle was won, their demand realized. But they’ve advised they will be taking a “different approach.” Coy as they have been about future plans, the message seems to be that outrageous antics will be dialled down. But while they may be retiring from civil disobedience, they are not retiring from their climate goals. The end of JSO is less of a shutdown and more of a reassembling. Like any good team preparing for battle, they are overhauling strategy based on the opposition. Public hostility and controversy were necessary tools for applying pressure to the government to stop oil. Now they need new devices. 

In 2023, John Wight wrote a piece for Medium asserting that JSO was a failure. Echoing sentiments of many of the British public, he qualified their protests as devoid of self-awareness and empathy for the everyman. Theatregoers largely booed as Sigourney Weaver was wheeled offstage in the midst of The Tempest. Yet JSO protestors remained resolute, always remaining at the scene of the crime to take ownership of disturbances. “I can’t sleepwalk [my children] into a future of food shortages, life-threatening storms and wars for resources,” lecturer Hayley Walsh, one of the activists arrested at the West End said in a group statement. “Years of writing to MPs, going on marches and teaching my students to be more sustainable hasn’t seen the urgent change needed.”

A new podcast, Sabotage, launched with the goal of examining JSO’s tactics. Its hosts are nothing if not thorough: they worked to gain the trust of JSO and obtain interviews––no mean feat considering how tightly their ranks were closed. They approach the group with curiosity and openness, and what comes of that is a deeply human depiction of a coalition steeped in infamy. It’s a peek behind the curtain, but instead of revealing a man masquerading as a wizard, it’s a vibrant ecosystem stocked with plentiful courage, brains, and heart. The hosts noted that many of the activists were quiet, shy, self-possessed: not the dramatic, over-stimulated troublemakers painted by the media, but compassionate beings led by deep conviction. 

The podcast also contradicts what naysayers have been alleging for years: it posits that their demonstrations were successes. Yes, they were lambasted by politicians and citizens alike, they were arrested and sometimes locked up, and they were widely mocked––but every stunt saw a sharp increase in donations. Even the ramping-up of police action against protestors has indicated success: a reaction wouldn’t be necessary if the action didn’t cause concern from above. 

Their website now turns focus towards the necessity of a political and economic revolution, citing the role of corrupt politicians and self-serving billionaires in the climate calamity. “We’re just getting started,” they promise. They’ve already proven themselves as one of the world’s most effective climate campaigns: the lull is momentary, but the rebellion is still in motion.

“Fairness, aspiration and opportunity for all”

Australians tired of Labour’s empty mantra


27/05/2025

The Australian federal election took place on Saturday 3rd May, and, while many Australlians felt a momentary sense of relief, they didn’t end up with Peter Dutton—sometimes likened to Voldemort from Harry Potter—as Prime Minister, they are quickly reminded that the one elected, Anthony Albanese, is not much better. 

Several notable events occurred in the wake of the recent election. The Australian Labor Party (ALP) won its largest-ever majority with 97 seats out of 150, and Anthony Albanese is the first Prime Minister to regain his position since 2004. Despite Peter Dutton’s feeble attempt in his last week of campaigning to wage culture wars, the Coalition (the Liberal and National Party) scored their lowest vote in the party’s history. Peter Dutton became the first opposition leader to lose his seat.

The Greens came into the election with four seats in the House of Representatives, but, despite receiving their highest number of votes nationally, retained only one. Adam Bandt, former leader of the Greens, conceded defeat in his electorate of Melbourne where he was the member since 2010. 

Bandt attributes this loss to the massive swing away from the Liberal party due to the “Trump effect”: Dutton positioned himself as part of the populist right associated with Trump, pushing voters away from the Liberal party. 

What does this have to do with the Greens losing seats? Many former Liberal voters are more likely to shift their vote to the ALP than the Greens; and under Australia’s preferential voting system, a Liberal supporter is unlikely to rank the Greens second. So, the ALP’s monumental win wasn’t due to their strength, but rather the laughably bad campaign of the Liberal party, which included promises to establish nuclear power in Australia and sack thousands of public servants. 

Despite the left’s criticisms of the Greens party, their loss in the House of Representatives is a setback for Australians who support the Palestinian movement. The Greens continuously called for an end to the occupation in Palestine, Israel’s genocide in Gaza, and for Australia to place sanctions on Israel.

The ALP, on the other hand, has continued to endorse Israel as an ally. Under Anthony Albanese, the government froze $6 million in funding to the UN aid agency in Gaza, and approved military exports to Israel. They have also attempted to delegitimise pro-Palestinian protests by labelling them as violent and antisemitic.

Additionally, when Fatima Payman, former ALP Senator, argued for sanctions against Israell, she was met with criticism from the ALP and was labelled as antisemitic for saying:  “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free”. 

When Payman crossed the floor (voting against a party’s position) on a motion stating the urgent “need for the Senate to recognise the state of Palestine”, she was told not to join caucus meetings for two weeks. 

Albanese suspended Payman indefinitely after she told ABC Insiders she would cross the floor again. The ALP once celebrated Senator Payman as the first hijab-wearing Muslim woman in the Senate. This pride disappeared when Payman challenged the party line. 

The ALP’s claims to value diversity aren’t the only lies they’ve been dishing out. On the night of the election, Albanese said in his speech: “Today, the Australian people have voted for Australian values, for fairness, aspiration and opportunity for all.” But where exactly what the ALP claims to stand for? 

Is it “fair” that the number of women killed in gender-based violence has been increasing under the Albanese government? Is it “aspirational” that between 2002 and 2024, the house price-to-income ratio almost doubled, and homelessness increased by 25% in the last five years? Is it “opportunity for all” that First Nations people are significantly overrepresented in the prison system? From June 2023 to 30 June 2024, the number of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander prisoners increased by 15%, now accounting for 36% of total prisoners, despite only representing 3.8% of the population. 

Aside from these horrific numbers, Australia has the largest proportion of inmates in for-profit prisons globally, meaning that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples are being incarcerated for profit. 

This doesn’t sound very “fairness, aspiration, and opportunity for all” of Australia. 

Sadly, it isn’t surprising that the ALP exchanges lives for profit. 

Notwithstanding the number of homes and habitats in Australia that have been ravaged by drought, fires and floods in recent years, the ALP ignores the climate crisis and actively contributes to the destruction of Australia’s environment. According to government data, Australia exported 57 million tonnes of coal between October and December 2024, marking the highest-ever coal export recorded for a three-month period.

Not only has the ALP approved over 28 new coal and gas projects, they have also scaled back Australia’s environmental laws, despite promising to improve them, limiting the government’s ability to reconsider environmental approvals when an activity is harming the environment. 

Then again, why dwell on the past when the ALP has made new promises they can backpedal on in their next term? Australians can look forward to (if we’re lucky!) the ALP putting $8.5 billion into Medicare, allowing access to 5 percent deposits for first-home buyers, and outlawing supermarket price gouging, delivering a small tax cut that, by its second year, should save taxpayers a whopping $10 a week, and taking 20 percent off all HECS debts (student loans).

But how much will these promises change the lives of everyday Australians? 

Is offering a 5% percent deposit on homes going to combat Australia’s dire housing crisis and end homelessness? Everybody’s Home, a coalition of housing, homelessness and welfare organisations, argues that Australia’s social housing growth is failing to meet demand. The government’s five-year target of 1.2 million homes, according to spokesperson Ms Azize, will still result in a shortfall of 640,000 homes. 

Can outlawing price gouging really do much to alleviate the strain of the cost of living crisis? Price gouging is already outlawed in other parts of the world, including the European Union, which prohibits “imposing unfair purchase or selling prices” (the definition of which is rather murky). And despite the ban, actual enforcement is rare, and, as we can see in Germany, the cost of living is still rising and, for many of us, unaffordable. 

As the ALP continues to ignore the causes of the diminishing living standards, namely the transfer of wealth to the rich, their policies will do little to improve people’s lives. They’ve prioritised profit over people while claiming to be the lesser evil. Everyone deserves affordable housing, healthcare, and education, yet the ALP hands these out in scraps.

But our industry, education, housing, and healthcare system shouldn’t exist to benefit the rich. 

This is what newcomer-party Victorian Socialists (VS) claim to be fighting for. Established in 2018 as a collaboration between the Socialist Alliance and Socialist Alternative, the VS declared to push back against the war waged against workers and the lie that both the ALP and the Liberals perpetuate: that there is no alternative to capitalism. 

The main goal of the party is to abolish capitalism in Australia, which, according to the party’s aims, must be achieved through workplace, community and political organisation. 

The Socialist Equality Party (SEP) candidate, Morgen Peach, has criticised the VS, labelling them as a “pseudo-left” party that promotes the Greens as allies that instead of mobilising workers, attempts to appeal to the powers that exist within the framework of capitalism. 

However, others have argued differently. Gary Pearce writes that an important part of VS’s strategy is “not to seek to represent a largely passive constituency in government, but to fight alongside different communities”. The party has involved themselves in and organised protests opposing wage theft, public housing sell-offs, and Israel’s occupation of and genocide in Palestine.

And while the Victorian Socialist party does commend the Greens party on being one mainstream party that offers a “left alternative”, they denounce the Green’s focus on “gentrified inner city seats” and their unwillingness to campaign and immerse themselves amongst working-class migrant communities. 

Australia’s desire for a left-alternative is evident in the election results in Thomastown, Epping Views and Campbellfield, where the VS saw a vote share increase of 15 to 20 percent. For that reason, the VS, on 11 May 2025, decided to expand the project across Australia. James Plested, VS communications manager, writes: “Where socialists can run a decent campaign, we can gain a hearing and often win people away from voting for the faux anti-establishment parties of the far right.” 

The party aims to build branches in every state and territory, and eventually, every city and town in Australia, claiming that “The more of us there are coming together across Australia to fight the rotten status quo of capitalist politics, the more powerful our movement will become.” 

While the VS are expanding nationally and provide a left alternative, Australians have a responsibility to do more than simply wait for the next election to vote. Because, in the end, what is important is not an extra seat in the Senate or House of Representatives, but actively working and organising to achieve a better world where equality, freedom and justice apply to everyone. 

Keir Starmer: Clickbait Politics, Real-World Harm

An opinion on the prime minister’s disappointing at best, dangerous at worst political strategy—or lackthereof


26/05/2025

It’s hard to explain the feeling UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer gives me, but here goes.

For me, Keir Starmer is less a politician and more a mid-Ryanair-flight scratch card. A laminated ‘‘Live, Laugh, Love’’ quote blu-tacked to the wall of a Jobcentre. A “conscious” tech company’s big picture mission statement. Or a softly whispered ‘‘you got this’’, delivered with a slow, pitying pat on the back.

If you’re not following: he’s like something supposed to give you a bit of hope, but that leaves you feeling even more bleak and directionless than before. That’s Starmer. A semi-deflated, grey balloon at a resignation party and the UK’s very own numero uno.

Too harsh? I think too kind. Scratch cards, pitying pats on the back, and laminated quotes in Comic Sans are harmless, cringeworthy artefacts of modern life. Keir Starmer’s recent policy swings are harmful and so far, the harm has been aimed at the most vulnerable.

Just last week, Starmer reached a new low, declaring that the UK has become “an island of strangers.” A line so soaked in dog-whistle nationalism it could’ve been ghostwritten by The Sun and premiered on GB News. Which, in a sense, it was. 

GB News was the only broadcaster granted access to the press conference where Starmer unveiled his new immigration white paper. Not the BBC. Not ITV. Not even Sky News. Just GB News, a channel where facts go to be softly strangled by bigoted opinions dressed in Union Jack onesies. Fittingly, the white paper itself reportedly reads like Reform UK fanfiction, just with cleaner formatting and no typos.

In its new Labour font, the paper takes a sledgehammer to legal migration: longer waits for settlement, stricter visa rules, reduced access to family reunification, and tougher language requirements. Starmer frames it as fairness—a way to reduce exploitation, boost British wages, and encourage integration—but in reality, it’s theatre. A crackdown crafted for clickbait headlines, not human lives. And the people who bear the consequences—migrants, workers, families trying to build a life—are left in greater precarity than ever.

It’s a clumsy attempt to peel off Reform UK voters by mimicking their language and posture. The problem is, the act doesn’t land. It’s like watching someone attempt to speak fluent populism after skim-reading a scribbled summary of Nigel Farage’s greatest hits off the wall of a pub toilet. The sentiment is borrowed, the delivery is lifeless, and the result is a favourability score continuing to nosedive across almost all party lines: too hardline for the left, too weak for the right, and too obviously rehearsed for anyone to respect. 

But the failure of this performance isn’t the real danger, it’s what it enables. When the language of the far right becomes the language of power, hate is legitimised, and cruelty gets policy teeth. It doesn’t win over voters. It shifts the centre of gravity, with the cost most felt by those already living at the edge of safety and recognition.

Depressingly, Starmer’s record makes this shift feel less like a miscalculation and more like a pattern. 

On trans rights, he also folded. He once supported gender self-identification but now he backs a legal definition designed to exclude trans women from recognition and protection. It’s not clarity, it’s cowardice, and a deliberate decision to appease a hostile conservative press obsessed with culture war. 

A similar evasiveness defines Starmer’s stance on Gaza. Despite the murmurings of restraint and carefully worded appeals for calm, Labour has overseen an increase in UK arms sales to Israel—a quiet but bloodsoaked complicity that renders its appeals for de-escalation, or talk of trade pauses, entirely meaningless.

And even more revealing of Starmer’s character is the bizarre way he speaks about Israel: consistently gendered, imbued with vulnerability, he talks of “her right to feel safe, her need to defend herself.” In contrast, trans women, Palestinians, and asylum seekers, receive no such empathy. A nuclear-armed, genocidal state is granted personhood; real people are denied it, along with their safety, their dignity, and their lives.


For the record, I was never under the illusion that Starmer would return Labour to the Left. The man’s not exactly a Trojan horse for socialism, he’s a former cop in a suit. But there was, perhaps naively, a hope that he wouldn’t bend so completely to the altar of the right-wing press. That he might follow through on his own meagre promise of “evidence-led” policy making. That he’d show a shred of moral backbone or at the very least, behave like someone who understands what’s at stake.

Instead, he thinks the Daily Mail might warm to him if he clicks his heels and whispers “secure borders” three times. And to top it off, he’s not even good at it. He’s doing it with the conviction of a man so unsure of his own message, he could be replaced mid-sentence by a pop-up ad for tax-relief on pensions and no one would notice.

But all jokes aside: the result is politics that are not only empty and embarrassing, but dangerous and inhumane.